


Fearless

by LdotRage (ObliviousInsomniac)



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Ruby & Sapphire & Emerald | Pokemon Ruby Sapphire Emerald Versions
Genre: Astraphobia, Gen, Phobias, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-02 23:56:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6588469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObliviousInsomniac/pseuds/LdotRage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sudden thunderstorm surprises the residents of Petalburg City and Norman discovers something about his daughter that he really should have known—forcing him to acknowledge just how much he'd distanced himself from his only child.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fearless

May had never intended for anyone to figure it out.

It was embarrassing beyond the parameter of words. There were ravenous animals, near apocalypses, large gangs of thugs known to resort to violence; a million natural, _sensible_ things to be afraid of. There were things that she faced daily that would send most kids her age running for the hills with their dignity escaping through their pant legs. In front of these horrors, each abomination enough to petrify most, she remained steadfast and resolute because they simply did not scare her. She was literally famous for her refusal to show fear in even the most dire of situations.

Of course, she could have taken the whole thing in stride it if her one weak point, her one kryptonite, had been something worthy of stripping the "Fearless Champion" title right from her Trainer ID. But _no_. That luxury was apparently forbidden to her. Her major phobia couldn't be _anything_ else but—

_Krak-a-thoom!_

Thunder split apart the sky.

She winced, a reflex she disguised as an irritated glare at the droll indigo puffs circling ominously overhead. The usually inviting and cheerful environment of Petalburg City (if a cluster of houses and one gym could be called a city) had suddenly and quickly been overtaken by the gloom of a storm blowing over them. She should have seen it coming; she should have anticipated this predicament. But the clouds had just rolled in so _fast!_ Before she had time to react, they'd already commandeered the sky, and now they'd slit the heavens' throats and let an unceasing deluge pour down. In fact, this couldn't even be categorized as a storm. It was more like a billion Gyarados were just leisurely sailing overhead, each dropping twice his weight in raindrops as he went.

May had never been a fan of Gyarados.

A flash of blinding light, even in its brevity, illuminated the swath of Petalburg she could see through the window. Flinching as she anticipated another roll of thunder, she only succeeded in leaving a mark on her forehead, which had already been pressed firmly against the pane. Krak-a-thoom! And there it was: the ear-shattering roar that she'd been fearfully awaiting. She reigned in her knee-jerk reaction to shriek in terror and instead closed her eyes, regulating her breathing discreetly. Fear wasn't something she was used to. She was naturally almost fearless, but that just meant that, when she was afraid, it caught her off-guard. And, ironically, what she feared most was other people knowing that she feared at all.

Unaware of his daughter's struggle to keep herself calm and collected, Norman adjusted his trademark red jacket to shield himself from the draft that bombarded him even with the gym door closed. Just from his fleeting peek outside to assess the situation, he'd been practically soaked to the bone, and he now stood still and let himself slowly drip dry. "It's hopeless out there, May," he announced despite how it pained him to state something so obvious. If he didn't flat-up tell her that he wouldn't be allowing her to leave, the stubborn Champion would probably head home anyway and catch cold several times over. "We'll just have to wait the rain out and hope it doesn't last too long. With any luck, we won't have to make a break for it before then." Luckily, all the gym trainers had already returned to their homes upon learning that Norman himself was planning on taking the day off. They were neither obliged nor encouraged to stay and stand guard when there wouldn't even be a leader to hand out badges.

Panic welled inside the Champion's stomach, muddling her thoughts and triggering a faint sense of nausea. 'Stay here in a thunderstorm... with Dad?!' The idea was appalling; merely entertaining the thought was enough to send her scrambling for some sort of leverage. Anything to get her _out_ of this situation before things took a turn for the worse.

She'd been able to conceal her phobia in Johto because she had a sanctuary: a room to escape into and a pillow to swallow her screams. She'd left on her journey in Hoenn long before Littleroot even saw a sprinkle of rain, and that journey had lasted nearly two full years. In the year that had elapsed since then, she'd simply found shelter somewhere secluded or huddled in her Secret Base, where she'd now permanently taken up residence, and stifled the yelps with the old Azurill doll her father had given to her on her fifth birthday. It was a testament to his love for her; a physical representation of their bond, and so it was priceless to her. Sometimes, although she didn't even admit it to herself, she longed for comfort from the dad that she revered. No one could deny, after all, that May was a clear daddy's girl: she practically worshiped him. But that just meant that his opinion was that much more valuable to her. That, when he did show any sort of disappointment in her, it hit her twice as hard.

That was why she couldn't afford to let him know of her fear.

His opinion was Arceus's law to May, and she coveted nothing more than his approval. But his constant stoic attitude and seeming indifference affected her more than she let on. Secretly, there was a little part of her that curled up and died whenever he inadvertently displayed how superior he was. The one thing that he often complimented her on—the one thing that he openly, visibly admired about her—was her courage. She'd inherited it from him, of course, but her version was somehow even stronger—remarkably so. Both Trainers were foundations stronger than stone, but his blood was made of mere ice whereas she had titanium in her veins. It was the one thing she thought he was proud of in her. The one thing that she could pride herself in because she didn't think he approved of anything else she did.

How disappointed would he be to discover that his supposedly "brave" daughter could be reduced to a scared little child just by a few loud noises and bright lights?

"May?"

The brunette jumped, steeling herself for the crackle of thunder just a flicker too late. As the sky rattled and clanged like an Aipom in a pan cupboard, she flinched away from the sound, attracting even further attention from her dad. It was now that she realized how long she'd been zoned out; Norman's hand lay on her shoulder, no doubt to shake her back to reality if she refused to snap out of it. _'You idiot! You not only totally spaced out, but you reacted! It's just thunder, and you jumped! He's going to be_ so _let down! All because you acted like such a baby!'_ The harsh internal reprimand she administered to herself was enough to turn her cheeks pink as she shied away from her father's comforting touch. Looking down, she evaded his worried gaze, sure that it would become stern the moment she let her guard down. Never once before had her father scolded her for her weakness, but she was sure that it was overdue to happen any time now.

But Norman just carefully replaced his hand on her shoulder, relief filling him when she didn't attempt to brush it off again. If anything, the attempt to placate her seemed to get results, as the tension drained from her shoulders ever-so-slightly. She relaxed. At least that meant he wasn't afraid of him. "Are you okay, May?" he asked gently, concern taking over his facial features. If the other gym leaders had been present, they wouldn't have believed their eyes. In the three years he'd been serving as a Gym Leader in Hoenn, he'd practically never lost the serious expression on his face. In fact, he only seemed to let up even a little when he was congratulating Trainers who'd won the Balance Badge from him. Even then, he barely smiled. To see him look worried was unheard of. Yet here he was, panicking ever-so-slightly and fretting over his daughter, even if only in the subtle way that he did.

"I'm fine." It was a quiet, bashful response, but at least a response, he supposed. "You just startled me, that's all. Sorry." And, before he could even comprehend her words and make up his mind about how to respond, she was already turning away, face burning in shame. "I... I, um... I'll lock the door. It might help with the cold." Trying to hide her clear discomfort ( _'No wonder you embarrass him, May; you can't go five seconds without screwing something up!'_ ), she made a beeline for where she knew the second spare key to the gym was hidden in the left gym statue.

"I already locked it," Norman quickly intervened.

She paused, but apparently would not be stopped, because she immediately pivoted on her heel and began a hasty retreat towards the door to the nearest trainer room. "W-well, I guess I'll go make sure all of the windows are closed—"

"They are. We didn't open them this morning because one of the Trainers has allergies to some pollen or other." True. But the actual intent behind his actions was to just keep May in one place so that he could make sure that she was really alright. "May, are you sure you're—?"

This time, she was the one to interrupt him. He immediately ceased all movement, shocked into silence by the fact that she'd actually cut him off when she usually hung on his every word. "Then I guess I'll... just go and grab the cooler from the back room... there's some food and water in there, right?... I'll just go get it..."

"Wait." He wasn't entirely sure what compelled him to stop her, as hers was a smart idea. But he did, and she obeyed without hesitation, freezing in place although she fidgeted nervously and refused to turn to face him. He overtook her, approaching the door she'd been heading towards, and soon felt her questioning gaze on his back. "I'll get it." In the confusion, neither of them noticed the flash of lightning that meant a clap of thunder was on its way. "It might be a little heavy for—"

_Krak-a-thoom!_

Unprepared, May lost all control for a few fleeting seconds as fear ran rampant in her brain and her instincts overwhelmed her. There was thunder, and thunder was _scary_ and _loud_ and— _"Dad!"_ she cried, lunging forwards and clutching desperately at his jacket but only succeeding in grabbing a fistful of the material.

The only audible noise was the battering of the rain on the tile over their heads.

Both Trainers were silent for the same reason, yet for entirely different reasons altogether. May's silence was a horrified one as it slowly dawned on her what exactly she'd just done. _'Weak. Worthless. Disappointment. Failure.'_ A mantra of the same words played over and over again in her mind, mocking her. Norman, on the other hand, was experiencing a very different kind of horror. A horror that words cannot accurately quantify beyond "the horror of a father whose titanium-blooded, steel-boned child just broke".

May got over it first.

Before Norman could turn to envelop her in his arms and comfort her for the first time (that couldn't be right; surely there _had_ to have been at least _one_ other time...), he found that his jacket was hastily released. Snapping out of his own reverie, he spun about to initiate said embrace, only to find that May was stumbling backwards away from him. Panic and guilt covered her face, chilling the ice in his blood until it melted into acid. Tripping over her own two feet, she wheeled around and fled, heading down the first escape route she came across, thanking Arceus the door to the Speed Room had been half-open already, and slamming the door behind her.

Norman was hot on her tail, chasing frantically after his fleeing child, but the door closed in his face and he collided with it harshly, unable to stop himself fast enough. The resulting _thwack_ sounded remarkably like a kick, as if he had simply tried to kick the door down in anger, but he paid it no mind. He likewise didn't notice the small squeak of fear that came from the noise, nor did he catch the similar whine when he knocked on the door perhaps too vigorously. "May! May, what's wrong?!" he called, mind racing furiously and coming up with no feasible explanation for her behavior. She had looked like she thought he would _hurt_ her. She'd acted like she was running for her life. Surely not. Surely she didn't actually believe that he would _hit_ her, especially not for something as minor as that. And why had she grabbed him in the first place? He had no idea, and that caused frustration to quickly well up. Again, he banged on the door, but his voice came out less as the assertive demand he'd intended and more as a beg. "May, _please!_ Open the door!"

_Krak-a-thoom!_

Another shriek, muffled behind hands pressed to May's mouth, nonetheless reached her father's ears. The gears in his head began to turn rapidly as he considered a possibility that, previously, hadn't even occurred to him. _'She flinched at the thunder, and then the second one was when she grabbed my shirt, and now she yelled...'_ He really should have reached this conclusion sooner. _'Is May... scared of thunder?'_ Of course. Of _course_. How had he not seen it before? Mentally slapping himself across the face, Norman tried the door again, but it remained resolute. "May?" he offered, this time in a quiet voice, all the while racking his brain for previous experiences. There had been thunderstorms in Johto; he had to have noticed her discomfort around them at some point—

_Memories filled his mind: memories of thunder crashing and May conveniently finding an excuse to take refuge in her room for the duration of the storm. Memories of his beloved daughter looking at a cloud-covered sky and muttering in a worried tone, "I sure hope it doesn't rain." Memories of him just brushing it off as a little girl who didn't want to get wet because this was May, this was May, and she was fearless._

Oh, Arceus.

He didn't want to keep thinking. He cut himself off from the barrage of self-loathing reprimands that assaulted his mind, instead focusing on his current problem. He had to get the door open and make sure May was okay first; that had to take priority, even over his crippling guilt (because _you didn't even notice, you didn't even notice that your own daughter had a phobia; you just assumed that she was fine because she'd always been fine before)._ Reaching forward, he took a hold of the doorknob and warily informed her, "May, I'm coming in." He was reluctant to barge through when she so clearly was petrified of him at the moment, but he feared that she'd do something reckless if he didn't make her understand that he wasn't mad.

That she wouldn't open the door on her own was a given at this point; May was, by nature, a steadfast young lady who wouldn't yield once she'd made her mind; not even to her beloved father. Or not-so-beloved, apparently, because she was _scared;_ his own daughter was _scared of him,_ and he didn't know why but he knew she was; he'd seen the fear: that heart-broken expression on her face that he _was. not. thinking. about._ because he didn't have the _time_ to break apart here and—

Bracing himself against the doorway, he hefted, putting all his weight into one tug that finally dislodged the door. Both luckily and unluckily, thunder crashed another _krak-a-thoom_ just as he managed to get it open, silhouetting his figure in the flash of lightning. It was fortunate because it made May pause, buying him those few precious seconds that he needed to locate her before she could bolt. And it was unfortunate because seeing his Cobalion-hearted child cower in fear before him, a cry of panic forcibly tearing itself through her lips, was nearly enough to drag tears to his eyes.

Then her eyes focused on him— _'Oh Arceus, oh, Arceus, he's mad, he's so mad, what if he's too mad, what if he hits me, I don't want him to hit me, he's strong, he's so strong, this is bad bad bad'—_ and she was on her feet, tripping and almost tumbling to the ground again in her haste. Norman was quick to pursue, catching the fleeing girl before she managed to cross the room halfway. Caging her in his arms, he felt himself flinch as she struggled violently against his hold, words pouring out of her mouth at top speed; words like _sorry_ and _please_ and _don't_ and _so, so sorry._

"May! _May!"_ he yelled, trying be heard over her desperate pleading, but her only response was to cringe and shrink away to the best of her ability, still squirming but confined to his chest. Heart racing, he ran variables past at light speed, trying to figure out a solution to this chaos. If he let go of her, she'd be out the door before he could get a word in edgewise. Risking such a thing wasn't exactly on his bucket list; she'd likely not only keep thinking that he was angry at her for just being afraid, but she'd also run out into the rain and catch her death. But he obviously couldn't just keep her restrained in his arms; all she would hear was what she dreaded. Judging by the way she sobbed brokenly and fought his hold, that was hardly the message he wanted to get across.

Quickly making up his mind (because he didn't have _time_ for this; May was still stewing and still thought he was mad at _her_ when he couldn't be angrier at _himself_ right now), Norman swept her off her feet and carried her bridal-style across the room, away from the doors, before quickly and carefully setting her back down. She made to bolt, but he caught her by the forearms, looking her straight in the eyes with the closest he could come to a straight face right now, telling her "May, I'm going to let go, but you _can't run,_ okay?", and assuring her over her sobs and raspy apologies, "I'm not going to hurt you; I would _never_ hurt you, May; I _love_ you."

When he'd managed to sufficiently convey his message, he slowly let go of her arms, unable to stop the way his face twisted in sorrow when she immediately scrambled backwards until her back hit the wall, corralling herself into the corner and pulling her knees up to her chest. "I'm sorry, Dad," she hiccuped, pressing her hands over her eyes; "I'm so sorry—"

"May, I'm not mad at you—"

She ignored him, because that wasn't him; it was just her own wishful thinking playing a mean prank on her; it _couldn't_ be him because why _wouldn't_ he be mad? She'd _lied_ to him all those times she'd claimed to be brave, and he'd finally discovered the truth. He _should_ be mad; he should be _furious._ "I never meant to make you angry; I didn't mean to lie; I tried to be brave, b-but I'm _not,_ and I'm _sorry—"_

_"May!"_

She shut up, her words fading to a yelp, and he mentally added another bullet point to the laundry list of reasons to hate himself right now. Quickly kneeling down (because it's not too late; he could fix this; he could _fix_ this; he could remedy this terrible problem, and he _had_ to), he reached out and gently took a hold of her wrists, his grip so soft that she didn't have the chance to misconstrue his actions as angry. "Hey—hey. Look at me," he offered tenderly, giving her hands a gentle tug and feeling sick to his stomach when she moved at the slightest indication that he wanted her to. Compliant; accommodating; submissive. _Yielding._ This just wasn't what she _did._ She was obedient to him, yes, but she _wasn't_ this docile; this timid. She was headstrong and iron-willed; she did what she thought was right and no one dared to question her. But she was independent; too independent for her own good. So independent that, when she did need help; when she did need a shoulder to cry into... she felt like it would make her weak to ask for that help even though she was surrounded by friends who would gladly be her shoulder.

"May." He wasn't _good_ at this; no, it was completely new to him. The patient, soft tone and carefully-chosen words weren't his preferred method of communication. He wasn't necessarily barbaric, of course, but he was more one for a strong, silent persona and firm words that reassured people not because he sounded kind, but because he was so sure of himself that he _had_ to be right. That was one of the many reasons he'd opted not to become a teacher at the Trainer's School in Johto even though the only open Gym Leader position was all the way in Hoenn. Every fiber of his being felt out-of-place now, but it was worth it to see his daughter hesitantly peek up from between the two sagging tails of her bow.

"May, you know I love you," he began cautiously, choosing every word with much dilemma because this had to be _perfect_ or he wouldn't get his message across fast enough.

The meek nod he got in return was rather discouraging.

There was a fire of determination burning somewhere inside of him; a blaze that was so mindbogglingly stubborn that it almost put his daughter to shame. Almost. It had only grown stronger under the rain with the added kindling of the stressful situation, and it now consumed much of his heart. Reaching deep down, he harnessed that power, channeling that tenacity up and cementing all of it into his eyes.

"I would never hurt you, May," he whispered, his voice so quiet yet to strong that it couldn't be denied. "And I'm not angry at you for being scared."

May scarcely dared to breath, simply staring with awe into her father's eyes. No. He had to be lying. He had to be making this up so that she'd let down her guard and—

_'Why would he do that? When has he ever done that? He's never hit you. He's never even looked angry enough to hit you. I thought you trusted him. I thought he was your cherished father and admired role model.'_

Slowly but surely, Norman held out his hand. May's eyes flashed to it instinctively, her body still shaking with unconcealed trepidation as she traced its every move. But it didn't move to flash across her face as she had still half-feared it would. It simply hovered there invitingly, outstretched towards her, and it took her a moment longer than it probably should have to realize that he was offering it to her.

"Come here, May." He smiled, a smile she hadn't seen in quite a while. "Come here."

For a moment, she was motionless. Then she reached out a trembling hand and joined it with his, feeling his arm begin to quiver with the violent shivers of her own. She gripped his palm—gently at first, then with her usual firm hold—and felt it reciprocate. Still with that encouraging smile, he made to help her up from her crouched position—

_Krak-a-thoom!_

Eyes widening and a gasp tearing through her throat, May leaped from the ground straight into her father's arms, clinging to him fiercely as the blinding flash slowly faded from the room. Tears overflowed from her eyes as they squeezed shut, leaking out onto his jacket. He was still sopping wet from his peek outside minutes ago, but she didn't care. She just cared that he was Dad and Dad was strong and Dad could keep her safe.

And, when his arms came around her and returned her embrace, she could've sworn that, for a second, she wasn't afraid of thunder anymore.


End file.
